Of Blue Ink and Black Eye Pencil
by NanaMii148
Summary: Alfred, the bullied, chubby and nerdy loser meets the loner, short-tempered, punk Arthur in a bathroom where one has teeth painted in blue ink and the other struggles with his eye pencil. From bike rides to Star Trek DVDs and stargazing, the school's freaks gradually learn to know and fall in love with each other.
1. Star Trek

**Warnings for : **USUK and awkward dorks, haha! Slight mention of bullying.  
This fic might become a M-rated one, but I'm not entirely sure of where I'm going to go with this fic yet, so I'll leave it as a T-rated fic for now. Keep in mind that it might change though, just to warn people who might not feel comfortable with M-rated fics.

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The cover image is by Haku (hakuku on deviantart), I think ... :O Correct me if I'm wrong ^^'

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_Shit, shit, shit,_ Alfred thought, hands clasped on his mouth. His classmates would surely remember that for a long time and he could already hear the mocking remarks he was going to get. Why did he have to be so awkward and careless! He was just giving everyone more and more reasons to pick on him day after day, wasn't he?

Mentally cursing himself, the young boy quickened his pace, eager to get into the nearest bathroom and clean himself up. That was something a kid would do, not a fourteen year-old teenager! But of course, that's the kind of thing he would do. Alfred Fucking Jones.

Not that the 'F' in his name really stood for 'Fucking'.

Startled by the way his own thoughts worked, Alfred shook his head, frowning. Damn it. It was going to be hell to clean that up. He soon spotted the boys' bathroom. _Finally_, he thought, pushing the door open. With a bit of luck, his humiliation would soon be over. But he was Alfred F. Jones, and when you lived with that name, there was no such thing as luck. A hand still covering his mouth, Alfred was met by the sight of a blonde teenager who looked around his age, struggling with an eye pencil in front of a mirror.

Of course, in the middle of class period, there would be a weird punk boy trying to put on some makeup in the bathroom to witness the fruits of Alfred's carelessness. Just great.

Emerald eyes glanced at him furiously, apparently not pleased to have company neither, and Alfred took a step back. Why did he look so pissed! Alfred hadn't done anything except entering the damn bathroom! Silence filled the room as they looked at each other, one still holding his eye pencil and the other still hiding his mouth. The punk's eyes narrowed even more, looking suspiciously at Alfred who suddenly felt very self-conscious. Why was he looking at him like that?

Well, maybe the fact that he was doing all he could to cover his mouth might have been a good enough explanation. But still.

Alfred awkwardly moved towards the sinks, trying to keep a safe distant between the boy and him. Something told him that getting too close might led him into getting hit or insulted. The punk's eyes kept staring at him, making him even more self-conscious and blush. Why would he stare at him with such an intense look!

Finally, Alfred got to the sink, but not without running into one of the toilets' door accidently and making the other boy raise an eyebrow at him. It was like Alfred could hear him think _"Really?". _He blushed as he stood still next to the other boy, hands still clasped on his mouth. Slowly, the other boy tore his gaze away from Alfred to focus on his eye pencil once more.

There was an awkward silence as Alfred just stood there, frozen, waiting for the other one to leave in order to clean his mouth, and the punk kept struggling with his eye pencil, looking even more clumsy than he did before. The green-eyed teenager spoke first, angrily turning towards Alfred, his fists clenched on the sink.

"I can't do anything if you just stand here looking at me!" He protested in a very thick English accent, his bushy eyebrows knitting together as he did so.

Alfred just blushed lightly and took a step back, mumbling a muffled "sorry" behind his hands. The Briton huffed, obviously annoyed, and went back to his eye pencil. Alfred started fidgeting, internally struggling between staying in his current position and annoy the other blonde even more or remove his hands from his mouth and be laughed at by the English boy.

Well, there was nothing good in there for him in both cases.

"Okay, would you please stop standing there like an absolute idiot!" The punk protested once more, making the American send him a sheepish and apologetic look. The Briton groaned, clenching his fist on his hips. It somehow reminded Alfred of his mother when she was angry at him. And he did not like that. "Either do what you came here to do or just go away, you prat!"

Nervously sending glances to both his right and his left, Alfred sighed. Well, he was already going to be laughed at by his entire class, one more person shouldn't really matter much at that point. He removed his hands, his lips still tightly shut. Unimpressed, the Briton raised an inquisitive eyebrow at him.

"What's the big deal? It's just a mouth." He groaned and turned back to the mirror, mumbling things like 'bloody idiot' or 'can't get any peace in here'.

And then he saw it. The very thin line of blue between his two lips.

"Why are you lips blue?" He asked with a frown, making Alfred blush even more.

"W-Well" The American said, fidgeting even more and nervously playing with his thumbs. "I sort of.. Hum... Chewed on my pen and... It exploded in my mouth." He said quietly, revealing the blue teeth and braces as he spoke.

The Briton looked at him dumbfounded for a moment and then rolled his eyes, snorting, before turning towards the mirror once more.

"An idiotic _and_ careless prat. Fantastic." He said with obvious sarcasm, returning to his work.

Alfred blushed furiously, before making his way to the sink, carefully avoiding any eye contact with the punk next to him, and making some water flow from the tap. He shyly drank a bit of the liquid before spitting it in the sink, the water coming out blue. He repeated the same movements a few times, rubbing on his braces with his thumb. Damn those things! They would probably still be blue for a couple of hours. He sighed and risked a few glances at the English boy standing next to him before frowning at his clumsiness with an eye pencil. _A careless prat, right, he was one to talk,_ he thought.

The Brit seemed to have noticed the sudden attention from the American as he spun on his heels to face Alfred, sending him a dark glare.

"What now?" He asked venomously, making Alfred step back in fear.

"Hum... It's just... That's not how you use an eye pencil..." He said quietly, scared of the moody English boy's reaction.

"And what would you know about eye pencils?" He replied angrily.

"W-Well... My brother used to have this ... Hum... 'Dark' period and I watched him do it a lot, so..." The American said quietly, remembering with a frown the awful days where Matthew would only wear black clothes, listen to depressing songs that always made Alfred want to kill himself and spend most of his time locked inside of his room.

"Well then, you can show me how to use one, if you would be so kind Mister Blue teeth." The punk said sarcastically, holding out his eye pencil.

"R-Right now? But I-"

"No, on Mars in a couple of decades."

The sarcasm flew right over Alfred's head.

"W-Wha-"

"It was sarcasm."

"Oh."

Silence filled the room as the two teenagers looked at each other, one with a stern look of determination and the other with a shy panicked look.

"Do you still want me to show you how to use one..?" The tallest of the two tempted in a soft and hesitating voice. The British boy only looked at him in silence for a minute or so, seeming to be weighing the pros and cons, and then threw the eye pencil at him before propping himself up against the sink.

"Show me what you can do, Blue Teeth." Alfred cringed at the nickname.

"Hum... You want me to put it on you..?" He asked with a frown, unsure as to what the strange boy wanted exactly.

"No, I want you to put it on my cat." Alfred opened his mouth, trying to say something before the Briton stopped him. "That was also sarcasm."

"O-Oh."

The punk rolled his eyes as Alfred walked closer to him, not really knowing what to do. The fact that the green-eyed boy was staring at him with piercing eyes didn't really help neither.

"Hum... I can't really do anything if your eyes are open..." The teen muttered shyly.

"Oh. Ah, yes, of course." The Brit said, coughing in his fist, his cheeks turning a light shade of pink as he closed his eyes.

Alfred couldn't believe that he was really putting makeup on a guy's face.

"Do you have some sort of brush?" He asked tentatively. The punk's eyes shot open, a perplexed look on his face.

"A brush? Why would I need a brush for?"

" To blend the eye pencil." He answered as if it was an evidence. The shorter boy narrowed his eyes at him, making Alfred squirm uncomfortably.

Well fuck Mattie and his makeup for making him sound like a drag queen.

"Huh." The English boy only answered, his eyes still narrowed at the blue-eyed teen. After a long silence, he finally decided to answer his question. "No, I don't have any brush."

"Oh." Alfred replied, stopping himself from saying that it would be difficult to do anything decent without some sort of brush to blend it or that he needed eye shadow more than an eye pencil to make what he thought was a smokey eye, in order to not sound even more like a freak than he already did.

But again, this guy had just asked him to do his makeup, so he wasn't the only one in the freak department.

He took out some tissues from his pocket and wet one of them with the water from the tap, not noticing the frown that was appearing on the punk's face at the sudden movement. He turned towards the English boy before starting to rub the tissue on his eyelid. The blonde backed away at the touch.

"Uh, it's to clean your eyelid since I don't suppose you have any makeup remover." He explained with a light blush. The Brit relaxed and let out a 'Oh' before letting Alfred do what he had to do.

Alfred started rubbing his eyelid and the boy closed his eyes. He was finally able to look at his face more clearly. He had a pale skin, devoid of any imperfection if it wasn't for the small, almost invisible, freckles on his nose. Alfred was sort of jealous since he had to fight with acne on a daily basis. It wasn't a very bad type of acne but it was still there and Alfred hated it. He also had thick eyebrows. Alfred wondered why he hadn't really noticed them before. He had thin pink lips. He was a bit scrawny but Alfred thought he was kind of pretty. He blushed a bit at the thought and decided to start a conversation to keep his mind away from the boy's face.

"So, hum, what's your name?" He could feel that the boy had fought the urge to open his eyes at the sudden question.

"Arthur Kirkland."

"Huh, okay." He answered before mentally slapping himself. Could he get even more awkward? Arthur didn't really seemed to be bothered by it as he asked, with a slight blush : "What's yours?"

"Alfred F. Jones." The Brit snickered.

"And why is the 'F' so important?" Alfred blushed.

"W-Well it's because of my second name, 'Foster'."

"Yes, well, my second name is 'James' and you don't see me introducing myself as 'Arthur J. Kirkland' " He said in a mocking tone, making Alfred blush even more.

Flustered, Alfred grabbed his sweatshirt's sleeve and rubbed it roughly against Arthur's eyelid in order to dry it. There was no need to make fun of him, geez! He could say his second name if he wanted to! This was a free country! Arthur frowned at the movement.

"What the hell are you doing! Stop rubbing so hard, it hurts!" He protested. Alfred slowed down his movements with a slight brush. God, he couldn't believe he was doing this. He hoped no one would come inside of the bathroom to witness this scene.

"Sorry" He mumbled before grabbing the eye pencil. "Close your eyes, please." Arthur did as he was told, still scowling a bit. Silence passed between them as Alfred carefully drew a line of eye pencil on the other's eyelid, but for the first time since Alfred had entered the bathroom, it was more of a comfortable silence than an awkward one. "You can open them, I'm going to do the waterline." God, he sounded like those girls in makeup tutorials.

"Is that a Star Trek sweatshirt?" Arthur asked, looking at Alfred's clothes.

"U-Uh, yeah. It's a good show." He said, concentrating on the eye pencil. "Do you watch it?" He asked shyly.

"No." Well. So much for having common interests. "I wouldn't mind watching it though." He added with a light blush. Alfred blinked, taken aback by the boy's statement.

"If you like science-fiction and you don't mind old shows, I'm sure you'll like it." He answered softly, adverting his gaze. Why was it that he was so embarrassed all of a sudden?

"Well, I do like both." The other said, a little more timidly as his cheeks turned a nice shade of pink.

"I could show you, I have all the DVDs." Alfred said, a little too quickly, causing him to stumble on his words and make Arthur's eyes widen in surprise.

Oh God, what the hell was he doing?

"I-I, uh, well, if you want..." Arthur stuttered, his face turning a bit red. Alfred looked up at him in surprise, blushing as well.

"O-Oh. Oh! Cool, yeah, hum, I mean. Ugh." Alfred finished lamely, dropping his head down in shame. God, why was he so awkward?

"Yeah." Arthur answered, also quite lamely, with a small and nervous laugh, trying to advert his gaze from meeting Alfred's, which was proven to be quite difficult since he was putting makeup on his eyes. Well, at least Alfred wasn't the only one who was having a hard time not being awkward.

Both fell silent as Alfred carefully traced his eye pencil lines, earning some "ngh" or "ouch" from Arthur when he was being too rough or accidentally touched his eye. None of them dared to continue the discussion, their cheeks still pink and their gazes still avoiding each other. Alfred started rubbing his thumb on Arthur's eyelid, making him frown.

"What is that for?" He asked, not enjoying the way Alfred seemed to rub his eyelids all the time.

"To blend the edges out." He replied shortly, blushing a bit. "You usually use some sort of brush for that so it's not going to be super good-looking with a thumb but, well, better than nothing..."

"Oh, I see." The other one answered. After a few rubs, Alfred was done. Well, it did look better than when Arthur was doing it, but it was not nearly as good as when Mattie did it. Alfred nervously gave him the eye pencil back.

"Hum, I'm done." He said shyly, not wanting to be hit by the Briton for having messed up. He definitively wasn't a makeup artist.

Arthur turned towards the mirror and stood still for a moment, his arms crossed and his gaze staring intensely at his reflection.

"Well it _is _better than when I did it." He finally admitted, relieving Alfred of his worries. The American knew that it was as far as the Brit could get in the compliment department. "Thank you." He said with a cough, his cheeks slightly pink and his eyes still not meeting Alfred's.

"You're welcome." The other one said with a small smile.

Arthur opened his mouth, like he wanted to say something, but shut it before spinning on his heels.

"W-Well, bye." He quickly said before storming out off the bathroom, leaving a blushing American next to him.

_Ugh, what the hell was that?_ Alfred thought before burying his face in his hands, bumping his round glasses along the way, and blushing furiously.

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**A/N : **

**I've always wanted to write a dorky Alfred! And I like to imagine Matthew going through some sort of emo period when he was like 12 or 13 years old haha! More like a rebellious phase than a very serious thing though. **

**I really wanted to write about two dorky and awkward losers after seeing so much "popular guy/girl" falls in love with "loser girl/guy", but God knows how I ended up with the idea of blue ink and black eye pencil... x')**

**I hope you enjoyed that chapter! Thank you so much for reading! If there are mistakes of any kind in it, feel free to tell me! It can get hard to write without a beta when English is not my native language, so it's always appreciated to get a bit of help! :) (How do people even get betas anyway..? ^^') Constructive criticism is also appreciated! ^^ **


	2. Bike Ride

**Warnings for : **USUK, mention of bullying.

Alfred was walking at a quick pace, nervously clutching at his backpack. He was late, _again_. Alfred had had a habit of arriving late at most of his classes since the beginning of junior high. It was really more because of an unfortunate turn of events than a consequence of his air-headed personality, even though the latter made him late an awful lot of the time too. This time, the blonde boy had spent his break in the bathroom. That wasn't very unusual, but some of the boys that liked to make Alfred's life miserable had to enter the bathroom when the bell had rung and he had found himself unable to leave his hiding place and confront them, knowing that it would most probably end up badly for him. He sighed; Alfred definitively wasn't the lucky type.

He reached the end of the hallway and glanced at the door of his Algebra class, pondering if he should open it or not. Maybe he should go in and just ignore them. He already knew everything they had to teach him anyway. He gulped and shook his head. No, this wasn't the time for defeatism and gloomy thoughts. He would never get anywhere if he let his depressing thoughts get the better of him. It was not the first time, and he couldn't possibly skip school every time it happened or he would get kicked out. Having made up his mind, the blonde pushed the door gingerly and as he entered, several heads perked up. He was met with the sight of an irritated teacher, her hands placed firmly on her hips.

"Late again Mister Jones, are we?" She asked rhetorically, letting out a long and frustrated sigh. "Go take a seat." She commanded with a swing of her head which reminded Alfred of a mean, old, cranky vulture.

He did as he was told, finding a seat near the window. He liked to sit by the window; it gave his daydreams a bit of inspiration. He heard one or two snickers coming out of his classmates' mouths as he passed between the tables but decided to ignore them, as he had grown somewhat accustomed to it. One did speak up though.

"Ink again?" He asked in a mocking tone, mimicking his little accident with the blue pen and making Alfred blush slightly.

He didn't dare to talk back at him or even look his way as he quickened his pace to reach his seat. It was definitively not the worst comebacks he had had about his ink accident but it didn't mean that he felt less ashamed at the comment. He sat down on his seat before turning his gaze towards the window. He was starting to doubt his motives for entering the classroom, already wanting class to end.

He liked school when it came to learning, he really did. He had always been a hard-worker and a fast-learner, which had made him the best in his class at most subjects, except P.E., which he was terrible at. He was brilliant in anything that was related to science, but apart from the learning aspect of it, school was hell.

The teasing and bullying had started in 6th grade and even though he was now in high school, it was the only school in his small town, so most teenagers had to go there. Alfred hadn't even dared to hope that it would get better in high school. He knew he would be met with unfortunately familiar faces there and that the change of school wouldn't make the bullying stop. He was waiting eagerly for college though, and the prospect of a new life where he could be unknown sounded like the most beautiful thing he could ever wish for.

However, until then, he just had to suck it up, keep going to Miss Johnson's Algebra class and spend his breaks in the bathroom.

Alfred looked at the schoolyard from his seat, watching the trees and benches standing still. He couldn't help but marvel at the fact that they had probably been there for decades, seeing other students come and go and how they would see him go one day too. He let his eyes wander on each one of them, stopping when he saw a couple kissing on one of the benches. He sighed, bringing a hand up to his chin for support. He watched them laugh and brush their lips and noses together, the boy making the girl laugh by tickling her stomach. She was sitting on his lap, holding his head in her hands in a loving way. The boy would sometimes let his lips wander on the girl's cheek, making her chuckle softly and suddenly, Alfred felt very alone. He wished someone would look at him with the girl's adoring eyes but somehow it didn't feel right to Alfred. The idea of him instead of that boy just didn't click, like he wasn't meant to be looked at that way. He frowned and forced himself to look away. It wasn't the time to sulk over his nonexistent love life. He needed friends more than a love interest anyway.

With a last glance towards the couple, Alfred turned his head towards the blackboard, pushing away any of his morose thoughts about love and focusing on algebra instead. At least algebra was real.

•

Alfred walked down the stairs, his eyes scanning the hallways in search for a place to eat his lunch. He usually ate on the second floor, but some girls had decided to stay there and he didn't really want to eat alone in front of them. He couldn't take the humiliation it would cause him. So, here he was, trying to find a new spot which was hidden from everyone's view. Alfred was used to eating alone, so it didn't bother him. He knew that people were aware of that fact, but he still didn't want to showcase it.

He had ended up near the language rooms. He usually didn't go there much and, as far as he knew, nobody really did for some unknown reason; too far away from the main hall perhaps. He hoped that he would find some peace there. As he walked towards the end of the corridor, his eyes flitting from right to left in a steady rhythm, he spotted a seated figure. He turned his head to examine the student more clearly and came face to face with familiar green eyes encircled in black. He froze on the spot as the other looked up at him, a small sandwich in his hands.

Alfred just stood there, unable to move, as the other looked worriedly to his right and to his left, searching for something that might have caused the boy's shock, oblivious to the fact that it was him.

"What is it?" He asked, a frown forming on his face.

"I-I… Uh..." Alfred knew that he was babbling and that none of the sounds coming out from his mouth were coherent words, but he couldn't believe his misfortune as he stared into the eyes of the boy he had met in the bathroom the previous day and who had been on his mind all evening. God, why was fate so cruel to him?

"Are you always this articulate?" He questioned, raising an unimpressed eyebrow and returning to his food. Alfred blushed at the question.

"No! I mean... Uh... I just didn't expect to see you here, is all..." He practically mumbled, looking at some random spot on the floor, not able to maintain eye contact with the boy.

"Well, I've got to eat my lunch." He answered as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

_But you didn't have to eat it here, _Alfred thought with a growl.

None of them said another word and just stood there, waiting for someone to say or do something. The air became tense, and they both looked at the ground, suddenly finding the tilled floor very interesting. Alfred didn't know what to do or say. Was he supposed to keep the conversation going? Was he supposed to wait for Arthur to say something else? Should he just go? He knew he was awkward but this was going a bit beyond his usual awkwardness. He started fidgeting and, even without looking at him, he knew that the other boy was too. Their eyes met and they looked away quickly, Alfred cursing himself, a blush appearing on both boys' cheeks.

Okay, this was _definitively_ going way beyond his usual awkwardness.

Arthur glanced tentatively at Alfred, looking like he wanted to say something, his mouth opening slightly but, before a sound could come out of his mouth, Alfred blurted out:

"I, um, I should probably go. Bye." He said, almost running away from the boy, not noticing the disapproving scowl that had found its way on Arthur's face.

_God, this was so awkward! _

He walked in haste towards the stairs and sat there, hidden from Arthur's view. He couldn't believe how awkward he had sounded! Why couldn't he just start a normal conversation without stuttering and running away like the other boy was some sort of serial killer ready to attack him! He groaned, bringing his knees to his chest and burying his face in them.

Alfred sort of wanted to befriend the punk, but, at this point, he didn't know if he wanted Arthur to disappear and forget all about him and his stupid stuttering or answer his desire to become friends with him and start a conversation. Arthur did look like a nice person, if you looked past the grumpy behavior. He wanted to know more about him, but the Brit probably didn't want to have anything to do with him. After all, who would want to stay with him, the nerdy, chubby, bullied loser? He let out a long sigh, sad eyes fixing the ground. No, Arthur probably didn't want to talk to him, or be seen with him. Therefore, making a fool out of himself in front of him shouldn't really matter. His depressing thoughts continued to haunt his head, completely forgetting the sandwich in his bag, before suddenly remembering about the Star Trek DVDs. His face turned pale as he replayed the scene where he had offered the punk Brit to show him his DVDs in his mind. Oh God, what had he done? Did Arthur even want to watch it with him? He had probably said yes to be polite. But was he supposed to bring it up? He let out a groan as he buried his face in his hands.

He really didn't know what to do about this whole Arthur situation.

•

Arthur pushed the glassy door, stepping in the schoolyard. This day would have gone quite uneventfully, as per usual, if it hadn't been for his small talk with Alfred. Arthur frowned, remembering how the boy had run away after barely thirty seconds spent with him. Was he that intimidating? Had he done something wrong? He shook his head. No, he had done absolutely nothing wrong. Alfred could just fuck off! He didn't need to try being civil and start a conversation with him. The boy could just run away and live his life on his own! To think that he had even wanted to offer the boy to eat their lunch together, what an idiot! He huffed, crossing his arms around his chest in a defensive manner. That's right, he didn't need to be friends with Alfred, and what's more, he didn't _want_ to be friends with him.

But that was a lie. Somehow, the Brit really wanted to know more about Alfred and he really wanted to watch those Star Trek DVDs with him. He had tried bringing it up twice but he hadn't known how to do so. He knew that it was silly and that Alfred was the one who had offered to watch them together, but it felt awkward. He ran a hand through his ashy blonde hair, letting out a frustrated sigh. He had just moved here during summer and he hadn't exactly made any friends, or tried to, so it wasn't a surprise that he had never seen the boy before, but he intrigued him. He arrived at his bike, a frown on his face, obviously in deep thought. Maybe he should try to talk to him again. But how was he supposed to approach and talk to him? "Hello, we met in the bathroom and you put makeup on my face while you had blue ink on your teeth and you ran away the last time I saw you but I sort of want to be friends with you and watch Star Trek DVDs together?" He shook his head, a "tsk" escaping his lips. God, why was it so difficult to just start a conversation with someone! How did those popular kids do to maintain such good relationships with so many people!

He got on his bike, a scowl on his face as he watched the school bus leave. Arthur didn't like the bus at all and had terrible memories of it. It was just a place where students would talk too loudly, throw things and take the opportunity to tease him even more. He knew how to push the bullies away and he knew how to fight back, but it didn't mean that he had to expose himself even more than he already did, so Arthur took his bike to school. He was about to leave when he saw a familiar figure walk at a quick pace towards the bus stop. He frowned, recognizing the figure of the boy who had been occupying his thoughts.

He watched Alfred sprint clumsily towards the bus leave before stopping with a sigh. _Did he miss his bus? _Arthur thought with a frown. It sure looked like it, the boy had started pacing, looking like he was pondering his options. It also didn't look like it was the first time that this sort of thing happened. Arthur looked at Alfred, and then at his bike. Maybe he could give him a ride. He did have enough space to carry a person at the back of his bike. _No, this is a terrible idea; he's just going to run away again,_ Arthur thought, shaking his head and preparing to start pedaling. He didn't start moving though, instead standing still and glancing nervously at Alfred. The boy was now walking away, probably heading home. _It's now or never, Arthur,_ he thought with a frown. To anyone walking by he might have passed for an obsessed psychopath, as he was fixing Alfred with such an intense look, his hands gripping his handlebar too tightly, making his knuckles go white, and his feet firmly planted on the ground.

_Oh fuck this shit, _he thought before starting to pedal towards Alfred.

•

Alfred hurried towards the door, pushing it open roughly, before sprinting towards the bus stop. He couldn't believe that he was late again! Matthew and his mother would kill him if he had missed the bus. He spotted the empty bus stop and slowed (take out down) his pace, a sigh escaping his mouth. He had missed it.

Again.

He looked around, checking to see if the bus was still in sight, but he was met with an empty road and silence. His mother was definitively going to kill him. He started pacing from left to right, deep in thought. It was an hour-long walk to get back home, and Alfred was sure to be roughly reminded by his mother of how many times he had had to walk back to his house this week. Maybe if he was quick enough, he could catch the regular bus which passed two streets away. He glanced at his watch and groaned. He had missed that one too. He was definitively going to get killed.

He dropped his head and started walking along the road, oblivious to the sound of brakes right behind him.

"Hey." He heard a voice say. He slowed down his pace, frowning, before quickening it once again. That surely wasn't meant for him.

He kept walking until a bike nearly rolled over him, stepping on the pavement right in front of Alfred, earning a shriek from the boy. He was quick to recognize Arthur, looking at him with that same piercing look he had worn when they first met, and he gulped. The boy's expression was a mixture of frustration, anger and seriousness. That couldn't be good.

"I said hey." He stated adamantly, his eyes still boring into Alfred's and his feet strongly pinned to the ground. Alfred stayed frozen for a couple of seconds, his eyes wide as he looked at the determinate punk.

"H-Hey..?" He answered back tentatively, a small frown of puzzlement finding its way on Alfred's face.

The Brit suddenly broke his intense glare and looked at the ground, apparently puzzled as well, but why, Alfred would never know. He began to mumble things under his breath before snapping his head back up violently, surprising Alfred who took a step back. There was a tint of red on his cheeks.

"Did you miss the bus?" He asked as if it was something he had repeated in his mind several times. Alfred frowned, briefly glancing back in the direction where the bus had gone before glancing at Arthur with a puzzled expression.

"U-Um yeah, but-"

"Good." The Brit said with a sigh of relief, his lips slightly curving upwards. The sudden satisfaction expressed by the Brit made Alfred frown. Good? How could missing the bus be considered good? After realizing how that may have sounded, Arthur quickly explained himself. Or at least tried. "I-I mean, no not good, but good because- Ugh. Anyway, do you need a ride?" He blurted out, the look of firm determination coming back on his face and the red on his cheeks deepening. Alfred looked at him in utter shock for a couple of minutes before babbling :

"A-Ah. Well, it's, um, it's very nice, but I wouldn't want to bother you, I-I will just walk." He said before brushing past Arthur and start walking along the road again. Arthur frowned and started spinning around furiously, obviously not pleased with the answer, before positioned himself in front of Alfred once more.

"It doesn't bother me if I propose it, y-!" He cut himself off before saying "you git." _Remember, be civil, Arthur, civil, _he thought. He didn't even know why he was embarrassing himself for the wide-eyed stuttering mess standing right in front of him.

"I-I, uh" He said before falling silent, his gaze fixing itself on the back of his bike. Was he serious? Why would he want to give him a ride? He looked at the bike intensely. The bike was old but quite beautiful. He frowned. Would the bike even support them with the amount he weighed? He was definitively not as thin as Arthur was. He stared at it for what felt like an eternity to Arthur, before whispering, almost inaudibly, not expecting the Brit to hear it: "I would break it."

"Are you insulting my bike?" Arthur snapped back immediately, looking very irritated. Alfred's head shot up in shock. What the hell was he going on about?

"Wha-"

"It may be old but I will have you know that it is very stro-!"

"I wasn't insulting it!" Alfred almost shouted, a glint of panic flashing through his eyes, and both boys flushed red.

"O-Oh." Arthur said, coughing in his fist. "Good." He added more softly and quietly, avoiding Alfred's glare.

"Y-Yeah." The other answered in a similar tone. Both boys stood there, waiting for the other to make a move or say something. A few minutes passed while they just stared at the ground and avoided each other's gaze. Finally, Arthur broke the silence by coughing into his fist, his eyes still not meeting Alfred's.

"S-So, do you still need a ride?" He asked softly, before quickly shooting a glance at Alfred who stood put in his position for a moment, rummaging through his options. He glanced at the road. He would definitively go faster on a bike, but the thought of being brought back home by Arthur felt odd to him. It wasn't like many people rushed to give Alfred a ride.

He quietly walked towards the back of Arthur's bike with a small blush, not noticing the flash of hope that passed through the Brit's eyes or the flash of relief and satisfaction that lit them up when the American sat, as smoothly as possible, on Arthur's bike, refusing to meet the English boy's eyes.

Turning his head in a way that Alfred could not see his expression, Arthur started pedaling with a small smile of contentment.

•

The air was chilly despite the cloudless sky and the brightly shining sun. _A perfect winter sun_, Alfred thought, glancing at the sky from the back of Arthur's bike. He liked that weather, it felt oddly comforting. After Alfred had given Arthur the directions to his house, they had ridden in silence for, what was now, ten minutes. At first, it was an uncomfortable silence, at least for him. He had tried, and failed at finding a good subject for conversation, and the fact that he was facing Arthur's back certainly hadn't encouraged him. However, the uncomfortable silence had grown into a more comfortable one as the minutes passed. He didn't really feel the need to start a conversation now, even though he still felt uneasy about accepting the ride. Why would Arthur offer him to give him a ride?

He sighed, recognizing his neighborhood. Matthew probably arrived earlier than him by bus, so he knew he was still going to get scolded for missing it again, but Arthur's offer had greatly improved his situation. He still had no idea why the boy was being nice to him, well as nice as he could be, and he kept stuttering and blushing around him all the time. He was pretty sure he had done nothing that could possibly impress the English boy.

"Which house is yours?" Alfred was startled at the sound of Arthur's voice after having spent so much time in silence.

"Ah, the yellow one, third on your left." He answered in a soft voice.

Arthur followed Alfred's instructions and turned to the left, not saying another word. Alfred's house was all but original and looked like it had been cut from a 60s postcard or a Desperate Housewives trailer. It was as plain and simple as any house from a little American town could get. A neatly mowed lawn, well-taken care of plants, a porch, a two floored house with windows and a door and a bright and sunny yellow color that attacked the eyes. A little bit bourgeois on the edges but nothing screamed normal more than Alfred's house.

He felt a bit sad that the ride was over. He wanted to spend more time with Arthur and he didn't know if he would ever get another occasion like this to talk to him. The bike slowed down and Alfred felt the engine stop its movement underneath him. He slowly came down off of it, Arthur already on his feet, looking at him.

"Hmm, thanks for the ride." He said, his gaze fixed on the bike.

"Ah, you're welcome." Arthur answered, avoiding the boy's gaze also. Alfred grabbed his bag and started heading towards his house.

"Well, bye." The American waved shyly, before turning away and making his way to the porch.

Arthur stood there, silent, trying to gather up enough courage to ask the question that had been tormenting him for an entire day now. God dammit, he was a man, he could do this! He scowled and at the sight of Alfred opening his door, a deep blush spread on his cheeks, and he asked, in a voice that he hoped didn't sound too shaky;

"Alfred, are we going to watch your Star Trek DVDs one day?"

The American froze on his doorstep, before slowly turning around, wide cerulean eyes looking towards nervous emerald ones. Alfred didn't know if he felt more surprised at the fact that he remembered his name or that he had just asked him if they could watch his DVDs together. He felt like a ridiculous mixture of shock, happiness, surprise and anxiety. The Brit looked very flustered, his arms crossed in a defensive manner and his gaze locked intensely on his bike. Alfred blushed, stammering :

"W-Well, yeah, we can... Umm... Watch them together, i-if you want to."

Fuck, he felt like Mattie.

Arthur's eyes seemed to lit up briefly, his eyes finally locking with Alfred's for a short moment before going back to his bike.

"O-Oh, great, I mean, err... Bye, Alfred." He said with a scowl, preventing himself from making even more of a fool out of himself by hopping on his bike and pedaling away energetically, leaving a very flustered and shocked American boy behind him. And as silly as it may have looked, he couldn't fight back a smile as he thought about the fact that he was going to see the boy one more time.

**A/N : **

**Clap clap clap for my beta liechtybakaribbon! **

**I SWEAR they are going to stop stuttering! ... one day. ("Are you always this articulate?" Yes, I rewatched the movie Hercules. Arthur just makes a wonderful Megara, haha!)**

**I have a lot of fun writing Arthur, haha! And I loved writing that bike scene. Hope you liked it!**


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